The wind blew cold through the streets, a bitter reminder of the world's indifference to their grief. It felt as though nature itself mourned the loss of Aunt Nena, the biting chill cutting through Erica's skin as she sat on the porch with Sam.
The wooden steps beneath them creaked softly as she shifted in her seat, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The vibrant colors of the sunset had faded into muted greys and blues, as if even the sky couldn't bear to shine today. Beside her, Sam sat motionless, staring into the distance with a vacant expression. He hadn't spoken in hours.
Erica stole a glance at him. His broad shoulders, usually so strong and steady, were slumped forward, his hands resting limply on his knees. The man who once radiated quiet confidence now looked utterly broken. The sight made her chest ache.
How do I help him? What am I supposed to do? Her thoughts raced, a knot tightening in her stomach. Nothing I say will bring her back. Nothing will take this pain away. But I can't just sit here and do nothing.
The silence was oppressive, the unspoken grief hanging heavy between them. Erica opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure of what words could possibly make a difference.
Finally, Sam broke the stillness, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I should've done more."
Erica turned to him, her heart cracking at the sound of his voice. It was raw, filled with an unbearable weight of guilt and sorrow. His eyes, hollow and distant, didn't meet hers.
"Sam," she said softly, choosing her words carefully, "you did everything you could. You loved her with everything you had. That's all she ever needed from you."
Sam's hands curled into fists on his lap, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, Erica thought he wouldn't respond. Then, he shook his head, his voice trembling as he spoke.
"It wasn't enough," he said, his words laced with anguish. "I should've been there. I should've done more to protect her."
Erica's breath hitched at the sheer pain in his voice. She leaned forward, desperate to reach him. "Sam, you can't blame yourself for this. You couldn't have known what was going to happen."
But he didn't seem to hear her. His gaze remained fixed on some distant point, his shoulders trembling. "I failed her, Erica," he said, his voice cracking. "She depended on me, and I let her down. I wasn't there when she needed me the most."
Erica's heart shattered at his words. She wanted to shake him, to make him see that none of this was his fault, but she knew that no argument would pierce the wall of guilt he had built around himself.
He's drowning in this grief, she thought, her own tears threatening to spill. And I don't know how to pull him out.
Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand over his. His fingers were cold beneath her touch, and she felt the tension in his body as he flinched slightly but didn't pull away.
"Sam," she said gently, her voice steady despite the emotion threatening to choke her. "Aunt Nena knew how much you loved her. She felt it every single day. That's what mattered to her. You gave her everything she needed - your love."
Sam's breath hitched, his fists loosening slightly under her hand. But he still shook his head, his voice barely audible. "It doesn't feel like enough. It feels like I failed her. I should've done more."
Erica's grip on his hand tightened. She wanted to scream, to make him see how wrong he was, but instead, she leaned closer, her voice soft but firm. "You didn't fail her, Sam. You were there for her. You gave her love, comfort, and care. That's all anyone could ask for. That's all she wanted from you."
His chest heaved with a shaky breath, and for a moment, Erica thought her words had reached him. But then, his shoulders began to tremble, and a choked sob escaped him.
"Sam..." she whispered, her heart breaking as she watched him crumble.
He turned his face away from her, his hand coming up to cover his eyes as though ashamed. His body shook with the force of his sobs, and Erica felt her own tears spill over as she reached for him.
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. He resisted for only a moment before collapsing against her, burying his face in her shoulder.
"It's okay," she murmured, her voice trembling. "It's okay, Sam. Let it out. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
His sobs grew louder, his body shaking as he clung to her. Erica held him tightly, her own tears streaming down her face. I can't fix this. I can't take this pain away. But I can hold him. I can be here for him.
Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Erica lost track of time as she held him, her hand gently stroking his back in slow, soothing circles. The sound of his grief filled the night, raw and unrelenting, and all she could do was offer him the comfort of her presence.
Finally, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out. He pulled back slightly, his face red and streaked with tears. His eyes, swollen and bloodshot, met hers for the first time that night.
"I don't know how to live without her," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Erica's heart ached at his words. She cupped his face gently, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "You don't have to figure it out alone," she said softly. "We'll get through this. Together."
Sam's gaze searched hers, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes - hope, perhaps, or gratitude. It was faint, but it was there.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Erica shook her head, her hand lingering on his cheek. "You don't have to thank me," she said firmly. "I'm here for you, Sam. Always."
For the first time, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It didn't reach his eyes, but it was enough to make Erica's chest swell with determination.
They sat there in silence for a while longer, the weight of their grief shared between them. The night deepened, the cold wind biting at their skin, but neither of them moved. Erica knew that the road ahead would be long and painful, but she also knew one thing for certain: she wasn't going to let him face it alone.
"We'll take it one day at a time," she said quietly, her hand resting on his. "And when it feels like too much, I'll be here to carry it with you."
Sam didn't respond, but the way his hand tightened around hers told her everything she needed to know.
*****
The morning after the storm, the weight of grief still hung over the town, thick and suffocating. Erica sat at the edge of the porch, the sunlight breaking through the lingering clouds but doing little to lift the heaviness in her chest. Sam was inside, his grief quiet but all-consuming. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him so broken, and it made her heart ache.
Her phone buzzed on the table beside her, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. Erica hesitated for a moment, the name on the screen sending a chill through her spine. Father. Why now?
She swiped to answer, her breath catching as she brought the phone to her ear.
"Erica," her father's voice came through sharply, devoid of any warmth. "I've heard about the storm, about Aunt Nena. Are you safe?"
Erica's throat tightened. "Yes, I'm fine," she answered softly, her gaze falling to the ground. I can't deal with this right now.
Her father continued, his tone cold and authoritative. "Good. I've spoken to the people in Tuguegarao, and it seems that the situation is far worse than I was told. You've had your time there, but your punishment is done. It's time to come back home."
Erica's heart sank. What does he mean by 'done'? "What do you mean, 'done'?" she asked, trying to mask the growing panic in her chest. "I can't just leave now, not after everything that's happened."
"Erica, I don't care about what you've gotten attached to in this place," her father's voice grew sterner, the finality in his words unmistakable. "Your life is here, in the city, where you belong. This town is dangerous, and you've seen it for yourself. I'm calling you back. The punishment is over."
Her mind whirled, panic rising in her chest. I can't leave. Not now. Not after everything that's happened. The thought of leaving Sam, of abandoning him after Aunt Nena's death, tore at her insides. She had grown attached to this place, to these people. And leaving now, when everything was so fragile, felt impossible.
"You can't be serious," Erica's voice cracked as she spoke, her emotions overwhelming her. "You sent me here to 'learn a lesson,' but this isn't a lesson anymore. This is my life. You can't just take that away."
There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, Erica thought maybe her father would relent. Maybe he would understand. But his next words shattered any hope she had left.
"I'm not asking, Erica. You will return to the city. Now."
Erica's hands trembled as she held the phone to her ear. "No, I won't," she said, her voice shaking. "You can't make me. I've been through too much already. And I won't leave Sam. Not now, not after everything."
Her father's tone hardened further. "This is not a negotiation, Erica. You will do as I say. Do you understand?"
Erica's pulse raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. How could he do this? She had already lost so much - Aunt Nena, the town, Sam - and now her father wanted to take away the only thing that had started to feel like home.
"I won't go back," she whispered fiercely, her chest tight with emotion. "You can't make me."
Her father's voice turned ice-cold. "I can, and I will."
Erica slammed the phone down, her hands shaking as she stared at the screen. She felt trapped, cornered by the man who had controlled her life for so long, the man who had never truly understood her. How could he not see? How could he not understand what I've been through?
A knot twisted in her stomach as the realization set in - her father wouldn't let her stay. He would never allow her to stay in Tuguegarao, not after everything that had happened. I'm being forced to choose between my family and Sam. Between my old life and the life I'm trying to build here.
She stood up abruptly, pacing in a tight circle on the porch. The sky above her, once so peaceful, now felt like it was pressing down on her. The wind picked up, a cold breeze sweeping through her hair, but Erica barely noticed. I can't leave. The thought echoed in her mind, louder with each passing second.
She glanced at the house, where Sam's presence was the only comfort in her life right now. The sight of him, lost in his grief, made the thought of leaving him too painful to even contemplate. But what choice do I have?
Her father's words kept haunting her, a constant reminder of the life she had once been forced to live, a life she no longer wanted. I can't let him control me anymore. I won't.
As she stood there, her thoughts in turmoil, Sam came out onto the porch, his eyes filled with concern. He had seen the tension in her face, the way her hands trembled when she slammed the phone down.
"What happened?" Sam asked softly, his voice gentle, trying to read her. "Is everything okay?"
Erica's chest tightened, and for a moment, she couldn't find the words. She swallowed hard, looking into Sam's eyes, knowing that whatever she said next would change everything.
"My father wants me to leave," Erica whispered, her voice breaking. "He says it's over, that I've learned my lesson and I have to come back to the city. He doesn't care about what I want."
Sam's face tightened, his jaw clenching. "Erica..." He reached for her, his hand gentle on her arm. "You don't have to go. You can stay here. With me."
Erica shook her head, her heart torn. "But what about my father? He won't let me stay. He'll never let me stay here, Sam."
For the first time in a long while, Sam's expression softened. "Then we'll figure it out. We'll find a way."
But Erica knew the truth. He's right, but how? She had no choice.
"Sam," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know how. I don't know what to do."
Sam took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers for answers she couldn't provide. "We can look for solutions together. Maybe there's someone who can help. Maybe there's a way to stay."
Erica felt a flicker of hope amidst the despair. Is there really a way? But doubt quickly overshadowed it. "I don't know, Sam. My father is powerful. He won't let me stay here just because I want to."
Sam stepped closer, taking her hands in his. "Then we'll make him see how important this is to you. How much this place, and I, mean to you. We can fight this together."
Tears welled up in Erica's eyes, not just from the pain of her impending departure but also from the warmth of Sam's unwavering support. Can I really fight this? she wondered, her heart aching with the weight of responsibility and love.
"I wish it were that simple," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I wish I could just convince him."
Sam squeezed her hands gently. "You don't have to convince him alone. I'm here to help you, every step of the way."
Erica took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her body slightly ease from his presence. "Thank you, Sam. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Sam smiled softly, though the pain in his eyes remained. "You won't have to find out. We're in this together."
Erica nodded, drawing strength from his words. Maybe there is a way after all. She leaned into him, finding solace in his embrace. The reality of her father's demand still loomed large, but with Sam by her side, the burden felt a little lighter.
As they sat together on the porch, the sun broke through the clouds a little more, casting a warm glow over the devastated town. It was a small sign of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there could be moments of light.
We'll find a way, Erica thought, her resolve strengthening. I won't let him take away what matters most.
Sam held her close, his presence a pillar of support. "We'll take it one step at a time," he promised softly. "We'll figure this out together."
Erica smiled through her tears, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "Together," she echoed, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side.
The morning sun continued to rise, symbolizing the beginning of a new chapter in their lives - one filled with uncertainty but also with the promise of hope and resilience.